


A New Lesson

by ancslove



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, Double Penetration, Established Relationship, Fisting, Light Bondage, M/M, Mild BDSM, Painplay, Threesome - M/M/M, Wax Play, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-29 15:52:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancslove/pseuds/ancslove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras and Courfeyrac teach Combeferre something new.  Ferre is a quick learner.  Read the tags for content warnings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Lesson

Combeferre looked warily at the rope in Enjolras' hand. It was sure to chafe. But Enjolras was insistent, Courfeyrac standing behind him, a mischevious grin on his face.

"Tie me up," Enjolras ordered.

Outnumbered two to one, Combeferre sighed resignedly and took the proffered rope. He looked back at Enjolras, unsure quite how to start. This wasn't quite his area of expertise. He was always the one to offer comfort and stability, with reaffirming touches and gentle possessiveness, while Courfeyrac took care of the wilder needs and Enjolras made them all soar on flights of ecstatic fancy. Enjolras, now securely wrapped in Courfeyrac's arms with the latter's chin on his shoulder, returned his stare and raised an eyebrow. 

"If you are sure," Combeferre made one last attempt, and Enjolras nodded encouragingly. Once in the bedroom, Combeferre, still fiddling with the length of rope, watched Enjolras disrobe and spread himself on the bed. Courfeyrac drew him over and made to show him how to bind Enjolras' hands, but physically tying the knots was something well within Combeferre's skill set. He brushed Courfeyrac aside and looped Enjolras' wrists together, pausing several times to ensure that the rope wasn't too painful. Enjolras favored him with a rare smile, then arched up to capture his mouth in a searing kiss. Lips parted and tongues gently wrestled as Combeferre poured all his worry into the kiss. When it ended, Enjolras was securely latched to the base of the headboard, with Combeferre lying on top of him. Cupping a pale cheek, Combeferre gazed down at his best friend and lover, finding reassurance in the level, gentle gaze. Enjolras nuzzled his hand and smiled once more. 

"Ready?"

Before Combeferre could respond, a throat cleared behind him. Combeferre jumped involuntarily, he'd forgotten their third. Courfeyrac lounged on the corner of the bed, already naked and stroking himself.

"As lovely as that was to watch, I, for one, am growing rather impatient!"

 

Courfeyrac oozed gracefully up the bed, with a wide smile. "My dear Combeferre, ready to learn something new?"

Emboldened by Enjolras' calm encouragement and feeling his own desire stir, Combeferre lifted his chin. "Always."

"But first -" Courfeyrac grabbed a length of black fabric and covered Enjolras' eyes. "There. Much better!"

They began with candles. As Courfeyrac said, candlewax was the perfect introduction for Combeferre, enough to burn but not leave lasting damage. At first, Combeferre winced every time the hot wax hit Enjolras' skin, but luckily for his nerves, Enjolras himself never flinched. With Courfeyrac's guidance, Combeferre dripped the wax in patterns across Enjolras' chest and stomach, thrilling each time Enjolras' hard shaft jumped and twitched in wanton need. 

Eventually, it became a matter of pride for Combeferre to draw any response from the blond boy. Every gasp was a success, every cry a triumph. Soon, a detailed wax labyrinth lay in red relief against Enjolras' pale, smooth skin. And when a drop of wax poured in Enjolras' naval caused his spine to practically leap off the bed in response and his toes to curl, Combeferre smugly declared victory. 

"Care to step it up a notch?" Courfeyrac asked. 

Wriggling in his bonds, blind and desperate, Enjolras nodded quickly. "Yes! More!"

"See, Combeferre," Courfeyrac explained, "The nice thing about tying his arms this way, together, is that it's very easy to flip him back and forth!" So saying, Courfeyrac then demonstrated his lesson, seizing Enjolras by the hips and effortlessly turned him over onto his stomach.

"Don't dislodge the wax!" Combeferre protested, but was waved off. 

"It's fine! It'll stay put. Now, take this." Courfeyrac reached under the bed and pulled out a four-tailed leather whip, thrusting it into Combeferre's hand. 

Once again, Combeferre hesitated. The wax play was one thing, but to whip his best friend like an animal? As if sensing his worry, Enjolras lifted his hips and thrust his arse up. "Please! More! Courfeyrac, now!"

Courfeyrac laughed and nudged his dubious friend. "Go on! Would you deny him? Could you refuse such shameless beauty?"

"Combeferre!" Enjolras shouted out his frustration, and Combeferre reacted instinctively, jolting the whip down hard over the raised buttocks. In answer, Enjolras rocked his hips, wordlessly demanding more. Combeferre gave him what he wanted. He slashed the whip a half dozen more times, watching in delight as Enjolras writhed and moaned in pained pleasure. Trading off blows with Courfeyrac, Combeferre found his own passion rising as Enjolras begged for more and tried to rub himself against the sheets. Earlier, he'd been too involved in his design and his "competition" with Enjolras, now he couldn't deny the desire he felt in watching and debauching his friend and lover. Crying in lust and need denied, tugging at the ropes binding him to the headboard, with his now striped arse high in the air, Enjolras was a spectacular sight. The thin lines of blood and sheen of sweat decorating his back underscored the beautiful pallor of his skin. The golden locks swung with every toss of his head. And Combeferre thought that he had never wanted him more.

Exchanging a glance with Courfeyrac, noting the engorged evidence of his other friend's own hunger, the whip dropped to the ground, and the two converged on the bed in unison.

Hearing their approach, Enjolras pulled against his bonds, the rope cutting into the soft skin of his wrists. A soft moan, need and apprehension entwined, escaped his throat. Combeferre traced two fingers down the bloodied back, making the blond twitch beneath his touch. Courfeyrac retrieved a small bottle of oil from under the bed, and grinned over at Combeferre.

“My dear friend, you seem a tad over-dressed now!” 

Combeferre startled to realize that he was indeed still in his trousers. His uncomfortably tight, tented trousers. Blushing a bit, he turned to rectify the situation, leaving Courfeyrac to attend Enjolras. Whatever Courfeyrac was doing drew more delicious whimpers and whines from their normally impassive third. Courfeyrac had two fingers inside the blond, circling slowly as Enjolras pressed back against his hand for more. As Combeferre watched, a third finger slipped in.

“Combeferre! Get over here!” Enjolras ordered between groans, and who was Combeferre to disobey? He moved to the head of the bed and straddled the bound arms. With one hand, he undid the cravat blinding Enjolras' eyes, while his other hand traced over his boy's heated cheeks and along the sculpted jaw. Enjolras’ eyes fastened on his now prominent erection, with an almost predatory gleam. The soft lips opened, and Combeferre sank back against the headboard as that wet heat enveloped him. There was no doubt that Enjolras possessed a supple and multi-talented mouth, and ordinarily Combeferre was more than happy to let his lover do the work. But tonight, he wanted more. Gripping the long golden curls, he held the bobbing head still and began to thrust into the hot depths, aiming for Enjolras’ throat. Over the pale, smooth shoulder, he saw Courfeyrac still working between Enjolras’ legs. Fingers thrusting harder and faster, making their willing victim moan around Combeferre’s girth. A generous pour of oil, a fourth finger worked inside, and Enjolras’ body jerked in response. That earned him a quick, stinging slap on the cheek. 

“Hey! Watch the teeth, now!”

Enjolras grinned up around the cock in his mouth, unfazed, then moaned aloud as the four fingers worked inside him. 

“Ready?” asked Courfeyrac and Combeferre saw him grease up his thumb and press the digit against Enjolras’ stretched opening. Enjolras tensed, crying out in pain as he was stretched nearly to his limit. 

“Relax, love.” Combeferre paused his own thrusts to caress and soothe his lover. Finally, Courfeyrac’s entire hand was inside. Panting and shaking, unable to speak, Enjolras let the prick drop from his mouth as his body adjusted to the invasion. Both Combeferre and Courfeyrac murmured to him, a mixture of endearments and compliments. Slowly, Enjolras’ body relaxed and he nodded his readiness to continue. 

One hand on Enjolras’ chin, Combeferre guided himself back inside the welcoming mouth, as Courfeyrac began to move inside him. Their rhythm clicked, built, Enjolras’ body sliding back and forth between them. Combeferre’s grunts underscored the higher, muffled whines from Enjolras and playful orders from Courfeyrac. 

“Spread your legs wider, gorgeous. Arse up, higher! There we go! Like this? Combeferre, pull him forward a bit, toward you. Perfect!”

Unable to hold back any longer, Combeferre spilled down Enjolras’ throat. When his senses leveled out, he saw Courfeyrac’s arm still pistoning in and out, his other hand reaching underneath to bring their third to climax. Enjolras, mouth now freed, screamed out as he came and dropped his head in Combeferre’s lap. 

“Wow, that felt amazing!” Courfeyrac enthused, easing his arm free and wiping it clean against the bed. Combeferre untied Enjolras’ wrists, smiling slightly at the raw marks left against the pale flesh. The wrist burns and stripes on his back would heal, but over the next few days, Enjolras would remember just to whom he belonged. Hissing a bit as he curled up in Combeferre’s lap, Enjolras frowned over at Courfeyrac.

“What about you?” 

“You up for more, blue eyes?” 

A mischievous smile, an intrigued nod of assent. And then Courfeyrac was usurping the bed and stretching out on his back, fully hard and oiled, instructing Enjolras to straddle him. Combeferre, already come once, was content to watch Enjolras lower himself onto Courfeyrac. This time, Enjolras set the pace. He made a lovely and compelling picture, sometimes using his long, lean muscles to raise himself up and down, sometimes sitting down fully and circling his hips, head thrown back in unusual abandon, and Combeferre felt his prick stir. A tap on his thigh drew his attention.

“Join us?” 

Combeferre reached for Courfeyrac’s chin, then stopped as the latter put a hand up.

Courfeyrac grinned invitingly. “Not me. There’s some oil left and he’s well prepared.”  
None of them had taken on two at one time like this before, and Combeferre looked first for Enjolras’ agreement. Permission was summarily granted with a jerk of the golden head and a thrust of the oil bottle into his hand. Moving into position, Combeferre let Courfeyrac guide their tableau. 

“Lean forward, Enjolras. That’s it, against me. Good boy. There, Combeferre, better?”

In the end, it was an almost uncomfortably tight fit for all of them. With no room to really thrust, Combeferre and Courfeyrac let Enjolras simply rock and grind against them. But Courfeyrac’s delighted smile and Enjolras’ needy whimpers more than made up for the slight discomfort of the position. Combeferre climaxed once more, clutching Enjolras fast against him, chest to back, and the sight of them both tipped Courfeyrac over the edge. All three collapsed in a shaky pile of sweaty limbs. 

Disentangling themselves was an awkward affair, exhausted and messy as they all were. Enjolras sprawled out on the bed, too sore and tired to even clean himself up. Courfeyrac drew him into an embrace.

“Are you alright?”

“Mmm. Sore. Might not walk much tomorrow,” Enjolras responded sleepily into his shoulder. Courfeyrac chuckled, and shifted his grip on the younger boy to let Combeferre tend his back. 

“I’m fine, promise. Come to bed?” 

Never able to refuse those eyes or that plea, Combeferre settled in and nuzzled against his two lovers. Squirming to get comfortable within the double embrace, Enjolras glanced down and caught sight of the remains of the wax design on his chest.

“A labyrinth? Next time, can you make it a griffin?”


End file.
